


Apex Sweethearts

by dyingwarlock



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Other, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, will take promps and requests
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2020-02-27 21:37:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18747592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dyingwarlock/pseuds/dyingwarlock
Summary: A collection of drabbles, prompts and requests for Apex Legends. All SFW!





	1. Victory Hug | Bloodhound X Reader

**Author's Note:**

> Pairings: Bloodhound x Reader  
> Warnings: n/a  
> Request: can i request bloodhound’s s/o suddenly hugging them after they won a match together?  
> A/N: We’re just gonna say it’s a two-man squad. Bloodhound counts as a whole ass army. And I’m assuming the whole thing is like recorded live so yeah. Also the reader isn’t a badass like the rest of the Legends so they look like trash after match is over ahskdljfhalf (aka how I feel whenever I finish a match).

_“You are the Apex Champions.”_

Speakers blare with the sound of music, echoing across the entire island to announce your victory. The two of you stand exhausted, but most importantly, pleased with your performances. A few drones flying past overhead to get a shot of the new champions. 

Bloodhound stood tall and proud, seemingly unfazed by the abrupt noise; considering they were rather used to victory. They holster their weapons before turning their gaze towards you. Unlike your masked partner, however, you looked worse for wear on all levels. It was as if you took a tumble down a dirt hill, fell down a waterfall, and then slipped into a puddle of blood──all in that order. It was your first match with your companion, and despite your numerous fumbles and misfires, everything turned out rather well. 

“We did it!” You cheer as you throw both hands into the air with glee, weapons carelessly tossed to the ground. You turn your dirt-stained face towards your partner, beaming at this victory, completely unaware of how battle-worn you appeared. You’d started the match with a helmet, but it was nowhere to be seen now, mud visibly caked into parts of your hair and maybe even a bit of blood. You couldn’t see their face but you were 100% sure they were smiling.

“You did well  _elskan mín_ , I am proud──” The hunter tenses up for a split second as your arms are thrown around their form, pulling them into a tight hug, transferring over a good amount of whatever grime was smeared across your armor onto theirs. They were far taller than you, your head reaching just below their collarbone, so your positioning was quite ideal. Sure, their chestplate was a minor inconvenience, but all things considered, this was a snug fit.

You sigh in content as you feel the hunter relax against your hold with an exhale, wrapping their arms around your shorter form, gloved hands resting comfortably on your back. They chuckle when you refuse to release them from your loving grasp. 

“There will be plenty of time for that later. They are watching, love.” 

And to be entirely honest, you’d forgotten about the drones, the exhilaration of your  _first_  victory and Bloodhound’s proximity to you the only thing on your mind. Turning your head to one side, you realize there were a number of them hovering just a few feet away, zoomed in on this lover’s embrace. Your face heats up in embarrassment, but luckily, it’s mostly covered up by muck. 

Grudgingly pulling away, you shuffle to Bloodhound’s side and stand rigidly in an attempt to look as cool and composed as they did. “Sorry…” you whisper, eyes flickering across each drone nervously, unsure of which to be looking at──no wonder the hunter had such dark lens. Bloodhound hums in amusement and takes hold of one of your hands, intertwining their fingers with yours in an effort to comfort you; you immediately squeeze back and feel instant relief.

“Apologizes are unnecessary  _elskan mín_. Let us return home and rest,” they pause and tilt their head to one side, glancing over your form fondly, “And we may wash up then?”

You smile bashfully and nod, looking down at your form and noticing that you might as well be walking camouflage. “We’d probably need a  _really_  long shower.”

They agree, smirking beneath their mask. “ _Auðvitað_.“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> elskan mín - my love  
> auðvitað - of course


	2. A Short Rest | Bloodhound x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: Bloodhound x Reader  
> Warnings: n/a  
> Summary: Reader is taking a break after some training with Bloodhound. Just two friends hanging out.  
> A/N: I love one mysterious baby.

You’re sprawled out on the grass, brow drenched in sweat and skin flushed from the warmth of the sun and the day’s exertions. You gladly take in the fresh air, glad for a moment’s merciful rest. You have half a mind to throw off your boots and gloves, even your coat, to help cool yourself down; but you find yourself far too relaxed to move even a muscle. Your entire body is sore from hours of training, and you’re certain pain awaits you tomorrow morning. 

From beside you, Bloodhound’s footsteps are nearly silent as they approach. Had you not trained with them as often as you did, you would’ve been oblivious to their presence. Tilting your head to the side, you squint against the sunlight, their figure looming overhead. 

“Exhausted my friend?” There is a hint of amusement in their tone, their head tilting to the side as if studying you. Were they smiling? You wonder if they have dimples….

You grin lazily. “What gave it away?” 

They hum in thought as they take a seat next to you. It’s one fluid motion before they cross their legs into a comfortable position, and even then, they look as regal and attentive as ever. Again, they watch you, your form distorted in the reflection of their lenses. It was like being watched by a hawk. 

“Why else would you be on the ground? Lest a powerful gust of wind swept you off your feet,” they say it so seriously that you can’t help but snort. 

You decide to play along. “I could’ve sworn a tornado came through or something──you’re telling me you didn’t feel anything?” 

The hunter shakes their head and looks up to the sky. There’s a peaceful silence. And then you break it. 

“Psssst.”

“Yes?” They respond, unfazed. 

“You should lay down.”

“I am quite comfortable.”

“Afraid you’ll get bird poop on your lens?”

They chuckle, “It is not uncommon.”

You raise your brows at them, patting the empty grass that was begging to be laid upon. _“Do it then.”_

After a moment’s hesitation, they do just that, careful to mind the space between the both of you as they lie back. You’re not looking, but you can tell the hunter isn’t particularly comfortable letting their guard down out in the open. They’re as still as a corpse, and you would’ve thought they died on the spot had you been walking by. To be honest, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen them with their guard down, even outside the Games. 

“You’d probably be more comfortable without the helmet,” you muse, staring at the side of said helmet. You can’t help but snort a bit when your companion makes an attempt to move their head, stopping as soon as they realize their movements are impeded. There’s a muffled chuckle. 

“Perhaps,” a pause, “Though I suspect you only wish to see my face.” It was a statement, not a question──and they weren’t wrong on that front. Not that you were going to admit it of course. Instead you mock surprise with a dramatic gasp, narrowing your eyes at them, knowing fully well they couldn’t see your scandalized expression. 

“You’re making a face,” they hum.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You’re definitely making a face. 

“You’re still doing it.”

“No I’m not─I’m a clean slate.”

“Stop that.”

“I’m not doing  _anything_.”

A moment of silence passes. Bloodhound hasn’t budged an inch, and you begin to wonder if they’ve decided to ignore you and take a nap. You suspect not, but if they were, you wouldn’t want to disturb──

You jolt in place as a handful of mud and grass is smothered across your visage with acute precision; you manage to not let out a horrified screech. Your lips pull into a thin line, blinking in disbelief at the utter  _disrespect_  that has befallen you. Hopefully it was only mud and nothing else mixed in there. 

“W-what─” you stutter, fearful something might slip into your mouth.

“Camouflage. In case you were thinking of falling asleep here.” 

You squint your eyes accusingly, doing your best to wipe the muck off your face without getting it into your eyes and mouth; your nostrils aren’t as lucky. “I’m literally going to kill you. Like, I won’t hesitate.”

The hunter snickers under their mask, considering your statement lightly. “You still cannot best me in battle, how do you expect to─oof!” 

Before they can finish, you throw yourself across their mid-section, rag-dolling immediately upon impact. “Oh noooo, I guess I’m dead now,  _oh nooooo_ ,” you drone, letting your body become nothing more than dead weight. 

They attempt to push you off with one hand, only causing you too do another dramatic flop as if you were a fish. “You are being silly,” they state in attempt to keep face like they didn’t just have the air knocked out of them. Another push, more flopping. You know for a fact that they could easily toss you like a sack of potatoes if they wanted to. So you can’t help but grin when they decide to just  _leave_  you there. 

Bloodhound merely sighs as if this were a mere inconvenience, patting the back of your head to concede defeat. You both lay there in content for who knows how long, and honestly, you wouldn’t mind not moving for the next few hours. This is nice.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: Mirage x Reader  
> Warnings: n/a  
> Summary: You’re teamed up with Mirage for the first time, and he’s as ridiculous as you thought he’d be.  
> A/N: This was sitting in my drafts so I might as well post it.

To say you were excited was an understatement. And no, it wasn’t because you had a  _Legend_  on your squad. 

Well──maybe it had accounted for at least half of your excitement, but that was besides the point. It’s not like you were a  _big_  Mirage fan anyway; buying one of his stickers literally meant nothing, you had stickers of all the Legends──it’s  **equality**.The other half of you was excited at the prospect of finally fighting it out in the big leagues. All that training had finally paid off! The fact that you were paired with a Legend was just an extra plus, and probably just increased your chances of victory. 

“Hey there greenie! You and me? We’re gonna make a great team.” The voice belonged to who else but the charming trickster himself. He gives you two finger guns and a confident wink as he steps into position beside you. You can literally feel the charisma radiating from him. 

You raise a brow, but can’t help the slightest perk of your lips. “Greenie?”

“Yeah, you know like greenhorn? Greenhorn’s too long though so greenie’s fine. You’re actually looking a little green greenie──nervous? Don’t be cause I’m here!” A breath.

You blink in bewilderment and shake your head in disbelief. He’s exactly as  _ridiculous_ as he sounds on all those talk shows and interviews, it was uncanny. 

“I’m not an amateur, I’ve been in these games before,” you scoff, unsure of whether to be amused or offended──but somehow, you’re suddenly feeling mildly self-conscious. Your lips pull into a thin line in an attempt to not show any visible reaction. 

“Suuuuuuure, but you’re not a  _Legend_ ,” he retorts, gesturing quotes for emphasis. He looks awfully pleased with himself, grinning from ear-to-eat, but recoils as soon as he sees the look on your face. “I’m just messin’ with ya, we’re gonna be great!” 

You sigh, already exhausted from this short interaction and wearily rub a hand over your face. He gives you a  _very_  friendly pat on the back to cheer you up.

“No really, you’re great! Or at least you’re gonna be great!  _We’re_  gonna do great, cause I’m great──which by default makes us both great!” He laughs awkwardly before clearing his throat, and hopping back into position. 

“Do you always talk this much before a match?” You ask, straightening up as you feel the platform below begin to descend, a gust of wind rushing into the ship. 

He gasps, a hand on his chest as if you’ve physically wounded him. “What’s that suppose to─” He’s cut off by a feminine voice across the way; you recognize her to be Wraith, how could you not?

“Good luck, you think he’s bad now, just wait ‘til you’re on the ground.” She smirks and nods to her squad. Leaping off the platform with grace, she spins back around to look Mirage dead in the eye before drawing a line across her neck with her thumb.  _Damn is she cool._

Mirage looks at you then her, then back to you, mouth agape. “I have no idea what she’s talking about. I am an absolute _joy_  to be around.”

You can’t help, but laugh, “Yeah, we’ll see about that. You ready?”

That shining confidence returns to him in 2 seconds flat, and he flashes you a grin, “I’m always ready, now follow my lead!” And he leaps off with a loud whoop, and you follow suite, feeling unusually confident in your odds of victory. 


End file.
